


Realization

by SuchAFangirl



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchAFangirl/pseuds/SuchAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>510 AU - What if the Stop Prop 14 benefit was without incident? Would Brian and Justin have reunited?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realization

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at Livejournal - 2008

Brian wasn’t entirely sure when he’d made the decision. Perhaps it was somewhere over the Pacific, in the hours that filled the miles between LA and Sydney. Hours spent in fitful sleep, unable to shake the ghosts from his mind, no matter how many whiskeys he’d had in an attempt to drown them.  
  
Then again, maybe it was the blowjob he’d received in the bathroom of the LA transit lounge. His mind had wandered, recalling a tongue more attentive, hands fully conversant with the needs of his body. When he finally came, Brian knew it had nothing to do with the beautiful dark-haired man on his knees before him, and he wondered if it would always be so.  
  
To be a little more truthful, it was probably the night before, sitting in his car talking with Justin, exchanging meaningless words, holding back the ones that really mattered.  
  
But if Brian was absolutely honest with himself, the decision was never his to make. The wheels had been in motion for over four years, and Brian had only just realized it. Somewhere along the line,  _I don’t believe in love, I believe in fucking_  had been erased from his credo.  
  
Passport and suitcase in hand, he walked out of the arrivals gate and approached the chauffer bearing his name. “Hello. I’m Brian Kinney.”   
  
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Kinney. Welcome to Sydney.”   
  
Brian passed his case and overcoat to the driver. “Could you wait here a minute? There are a few details I need to take care of first.”  
  
“Certainly, Mr. Kinney”  
  
Brian smiled and turned away, setting a course for the ticketing counter, each stride more determined than the last. When he was greeted with a friendly smile and a “How can I help you today?” he felt his body ease.   
  
Brian placed his travel documents on the counter. “I’d like to change my return flight please.”  
  
“Certainly, Sir.”  
  
“The earliest flight possible.”  
  
“Is there some kind of emergency?”   
  
Brian smiled. “No, not really.” Though most of his friends would have said Hell had frozen over, so maybe that did count as an emergency situation.  
  
The woman began her search for available flights. “I can get you to New York via Tokyo. The flight leaves at 10.25 this evening.”  
  
That gave him seven hours to rest in the hotel before he had to return to the airport. “That sounds fine. And my connection to Pittsburgh?”  
  
“You’ll have a two hour layover before your flight leaves for Pittsburgh.” She reached beneath the desk to retrieve the printed itinerary. “Here you go, Mr. Kinney. First Class, confirmed all the way.”  
  
“Thank you.” He would never have believed that something as crazy as this, turning around and heading straight back home after a twenty-four hour journey, could feel so absolutely right.   
  
~*~  
  
Brian spent the flight home preparing for the biggest sales pitch of his life. He had to overturn years of effective promotion that fucking, sucking, parties and eternal youth were the Brian Kinney way. He had the whole world believing it. Justin, Mikey and until a few hours ago, even himself. But now he realized he wanted more. More than a meaningless fuck. More than a silent loft and an empty bed at the end of the day. Justin had been right, there was something better, and Brian had let it go.   
  
As he sat in the back of the taxi, heading through suburbia toward the Pittsburgh city center, Brian held his cell phone to his ear waiting for Mikey to pick up. If he would pick up. After several rings, he was rewarded with the sound of Mikey’s voice. “Brian?” It seemed that staging the Stop Prop 14 benefit at Babylon had paid off.  
  
“Hey, Mikey, did you miss me?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m back in town,” Brian explained, “and I need your help.”  
  
“What are you doing back so soon? What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing’s wrong.” In fact, for the first time in weeks, everything felt right. “Listen, Mikey. I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”  
  
“And you flew all the way home to tell me that?”  
  
“No, I came all the way home to tell Justin that… if I’m not too late. I need his address, do you have it?”  
  
“No shit!”  
  
“No shit, Mikey. Now will you give me the fucking address?”  
  
Michael fumbled on the counter top searching for the scrap of paper that had Justin’s address on it. He read it out to Brian who repeated it to the driver. “Thanks Michael.”  
  
“Brian?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I’m sorry too.”  
  
“We were both assholes. See, we still have something in common.”  
  
“I guess we do. We’ll talk later. Good luck, Brian.”  
  
“See ya, Mikey.” He wondered for a moment if he had done the right thing. Wisely or not, he had put his trust in Michael. Now he hoped the details were only being relayed to Ben, and Brian would make it to Justin’s door before the news spread further.  
  
The taxi came to a stop outside an old warehouse building in a less than desirable part of town. The lack of security made Brian’s mission easier, the lack of an elevator did not. He began the long climb to Justin’s apartment, if his living space warranted use of that word, something Brian very much doubted.   
  
The smell of turpentine hung faintly in the air as Brian reached the final flight of stairs. He could see the door ajar and hear Justin humming along to the radio. He paused, swallowed apprehensively, and then climbed the last nine steps to Justin’s door.  
  
Justin was totally absorbed in his work, layering paint onto a canvas, completely unaware of the intrusion. Brian lingered in the doorway, observing. Sure, strong hands pushed the brush, making large sweeps of dark blue on a wash of gray. Justin lifted the brush with a triumphant wave, as though he’d laid the final masterstroke, then he brought his right hand down onto the canvas, marking a thin trail along the edge of the wet blue paint with the side of his thumb.   
  
When that same thumb wiped itself clean on the ass of Justin’s jeans, Brian winced. “Christ, Justin. I thought I'd taught you better than that.”  
  
Justin leapt, an involuntary cry of surprise escaping his lips as he dropped the paintbrush onto his shoe. He turned to face Brian, “Now look what you made me do.”  
  
“At least they match your jeans.” Brian smiled lamely at his own joke.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Justin asked curtly, still startled and a little angered by Brian's intrusion. “You’re supposed to be in Australia.”  
  
“I was. But now I’m here.  
  
“You’ve been to Australia and back in three days? Are you crazy?”  
  
“Actually, I think I’m the most sane I've ever been in my life.”  
  
Justin looked at Brian with a puzzled expression. Somehow, even after four years, Brian continued to surprise him. “And why is that?”   
  
“Because fourteen hours on a plane gives you too much time to think.”  
  
Justin smiled. “Always a dangerous thing.”  
  
“So I’ve heard.”  
  
“And?” Justin pushed, not content to let Brian get away without an adequate explanation.  
  
Brian looked away, searching for the strength that had brought him there in the first place. He felt ill equipped, armed with words alone. Not his usual weapon of choice. Perhaps flowers, or rings presented on bended knee, weren’t just foolish, hetero traditions after all.   
  
“And maybe you were right.”  
  
“About what, exactly?”  
  
There was no turning back. “That maybe there is something better. More meaningful. That maybe I could be happier if I gave myself the chance.” He raised his head to look Justin in the eye, smiling ever so slightly, biting on the inside of his cheek nervously. “If you’ll give me that chance, Justin.”   
  
Justin eyed him suspiciously. “This sounds like a proposal.”  
  
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”  
  
“Ever the romantic,” Justin smiled, but he wasn’t quite ready to let his guard down yet. “Just what are you offering?”  
  
“Me,” he replied, extending his arms out wide for effect. “All of me. Everything I have, just for you. If that’s what you want.”  
  
“But is it what  _you_  want, Brian?”  
  
“Without a doubt.” Brian left the shelter of the doorway and walked towards Justin, drawing him close with possessive, sure hands. “I love you.”   
  
Justin looked up at him and smiled. “That’s all I need to know.”  
  
~*~  
  
Brian wasn’t entirely sure  _when_  he made the decision but, waking up each morning wrapped in Justin’s warmth, he knew it was the best one he’d ever made.


End file.
